


A walk between life and death

by Slaveya



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6739528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaveya/pseuds/Slaveya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo has a fever and his walk between life and death  will have a crucial impact on him as a man and genius.<br/>Please leave a comment!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

For Leonardo Florence had never been nondescript. It was a bouquet of fragrances, noises and faces. The smell of spoilt fish embraced the market in his stifling disgusting “hug” while the mixture of traders’ and customers’ voices didn’t differentiate from hens’ cluck. The magnificent cathedral at the central square could be called “The Eternal Mother of Florence”. Lorenzo’s devotedness to the city was obvious even to foreigners. A couple of new buildings, new fountains and some artistic studios had shaded the strokes of the New Times on its map.  
In the long summer nights the wind whispered to the maestro with the tender seductive voice of Lucrezia. Winters brought memories of the coziness of “The Barking Dog” where he had spent great time with Verrocchio, Zo and Nico. Leonardo loved Florence in a specific way. He believed that it was his home, his inspiration and an enigma that he could never sort out.  
This morning was awful. The sky was grey and covered with heavy gloomy clouds while the rain was hesitating whether to fall and clean these dusty streets or not. Everybody was busy with his own business as if no one cared about the Turks and Crusade.  
When Leo woke up, he felt a bit dizzy. He hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks and he felt tired. He was fed up with everything – the war machines, the designs and he even wished to give up searching for the Book of leaves. Honestly, this wasn’t the first time in his life when he didn’t want to be Da Vinci – the famous artist, architect and designer. He dreamed to be just Leonardo. He urged to travel, to explore, to enjoy the world with all his senses without thinking about The Sons of Mithras, the Labyrinth or Otranto. …  
\- Leo, it’s time to get up – Zo’s words turned him back to the reality. Probably he was trying to make him wake up for more than half an hour.  
\- Mhm – Leo muttered. The nagging headache in his head had decided to make his day unbearable.  
Today he had to present some new models to the Florencian aristocrats – conservative old men that would hardly understand only a third of what he was explaining. Leo dressed reluctantly and now he was pacing nervously towards the palace accompanied by Zo, who was bringing his device in a box. His thoughts faded away again in order to avoid the increasing pain. The image of Lucrezia crossed his mind so his lips formed a smile unconsciously.  
\- What were you smiling of? – Zo asked  
\- Nothing – Leo briefly answered. He wasn’t in mood for talking. Actually most of the time these days he had barely spoken a couple of sentences. His body was aching and he felt as if he was about to fall apart.  
\- Leo … Zo – Vanessa’s cheerful voice welcomed them. - We are waiting for you.  
\- Maestro, are you ok? – Nico was asking something but his words didn’t reach his mentor’s mind. Everything had become excruciating by now - thinking, walking and even keeping his eyes open made Leo just want to leap from one of the palace’s towers in order to stop this constant agony.  
Da Vinci entered the hall, put his designs on the big incrusted table and began his speech.  
\- The memory of Otranto is painful. One of the children of Mother Italy was barbarously drawn from her hug! However, we can’t just stay and mourn about what have happened! In our nature we all are warriors and our passion and bravery will show the Turks that Italian mothers have given birth of lions! My machines show that Italy is a state of innovations and development and …. 

***  
\- Has he even slept recently? – Nico muttered to Zo

\- He always lies that he is fine but he is exhausted. 

\- I think we must give him time to relax – Vanessa suggested with obvious concern in her voice.  
\- He won’t allow himself to relax. – Niko and Zo said simultaneously.  
\- I AM FINE – they heard the artist’s annoyed voice behind their backs. - I AM FINE.  
\- Leo – Vanessa started but she immediately felt that something was wrong.  
The dashing figure of the blondie blurred in front of Da Vinci’s sight. In a moment he felt the touch of the hazelnut skin of the Incan priestess who was whispering an Indian spell in his ear. Then it was Lucrezia whose sweet lips were only millimeters away from his.  
Leo … Maestro … Leo – the anxious voices of Nico, Zo and Vanessa was the last thing that Leonardo heard before he collapsed into the abyss of fever and nightmares.

Please leave a review!


	2. Chapter 2

Otranto was almost the same as he remembered it. The Death and his retinue of starving curs had organized their terrific feast with the hundreds of dead bodies. The stink of decaying flesh hit the passerby, took him by the throat while the horror was absorbed by every skin pore.   
Leonardo was walking slowly not only because he was constantly stumbling over lifeless bodies or actually what was left from them. Every girl was Vanessa. Every lad resembled Nico. The old man lying near the palace door had the white hair of Verrocchio. A woman, probably a young and charming one, was sitting on the ground – sobbing for her dead baby. Two dogs fought for its corpse so their severe continual growl was the only requiem of the martyrs of Otranto. The mother didn’t even move when her infant turned into a bloody rag and its small limbs disappeared in the bigger dog’s mouth. Then she looked straight into Da Vinci’s eyes. Her own were blank and emotionless. Leo felt as if he had a lump in his throat. The designs he had spent on days and nights had made children orphans, parents childless … His mind feverishly sought for an excuse of what he had done but deeply in his heart he knew there wasn’t an appropriate one.   
Clapping of hands got him out of the trans.   
\- Congratulations, Da Vinci! I’m so proud of you! – Al Rahim’s voice made Leo turn back.   
\- You stole my designs! – a wave of anger overwhelmed the artist.  
\- Would you mind joining my walk? – The Turk calmly said as if both men were close friends that hadn’t seen each other for very long time. 

***  
Zo was nervously pacing around while Vanessa was half-asleep, put her lovely head on Nico’s shoulder.   
\- I haven’t seen such a fever before. – The Florentine doctor announced when he entered the room.   
Zo looked at him.   
\- How bad is he? – the question was so packed with anxiety that someone unfamiliar with the situation would come to the conclusion that Zo was asking about his own brother.   
\- Is there any way we can help him? – Vanessa asked while she instinctively grasped Machiavelli’s hand.   
When they saw Leo, they were shocked. He was constantly shivering. His skin was as hot as a blacksmith’s furnace. His lips were moving but no words came out. Maybe for the first time they realized that the great Da Vinci was merely a human and his body was so fragile.  
\- Leo is a fighter – Nico whispered but even he wasn’t so convinced that his mentor will survive.   
The new mother of Florence put a hand on Leo’s forehead.  
\- I will be the first to stay with him. It is the least we can do. – she suggested.

 

***

The building was about to explode. The tank was coming. What? There was someone in front of the building.  
\- Tell them stop! – Leonardo shouted at Al Rahim.  
\- Watch carefully, Da Vinci! – The Turk ordered as if he was a father led his little son to a theater performance. 

The artist looked carefully at the person over there. A woman. Such a familiar face.   
\- Wait!   
Leo’s yell was drowned by the explosion. He wanted to run towards the ruined house. Towards the torn body of Lucrezia Donati.   
\- Do you love her?   
The calm voice of the Turk was in such a contrast with the smoke, the ruins …  
\- No, she was just a good acquaintance - However, deeply in his heart the maestro knew that it was the most wrong answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo's new nightmares would make him make a decision

The magnificent Florentine Duomo was half empty. The plump priest in his white gaudy clothing resembled a big chess pawn. He muttering something in Latin but even his young servant, standing nearby, could not understand the words. Leonardo hadn’t entered the cathedral since he was a child. Well, he had come here to examine the frescoes technique but he had always left before the first church-goers turned up. Someone softly touched his hand. Lucrezia was smiling next to him in her beautiful red dress. What a smile- Leo thought. He doubted he would be able to draw on a canvas. A smile that mixed the innocence of youth, the temptation of sin and the simplicity of human happiness. His eyes slowly moved around and he noticed Vanessa, Nico and Zo on the first church bench. Zo in a church sounded like the funniest joke in the world. Da Vinci glanced once more and he saw a few other acquaintances such as Dragoneti or some traders he often haggled with on the market.   
The priest finished his pathetic speech so the wedding procession was about to leave the cathedral. Leo was pacing with Lucrezia who had taken his arm. Outside it was drizzling with rain. They were standing next to the church gate and the dozen of guests hurried to congratulate them. The silver fibers on Lucrezia’s dress were glaring while every raindrop on her elegant plait came across as a small diamond.   
\- How are you feeling as a married man, Da Vinci? – Zo cheerfully asked while he was shaking the artista’s hand.   
Nico whispered something in Vanessa’s ear so she smirked looking at the just married couple. 

The world smelled of freshness and hope. Maybe this rain wanted to wash all the pain, disappointment and nightmares. If now Leonardo saw The Book of Leaves in his legs, he wouldn’t bow down to get it. His left hand was on Lucrezia Donati’s Da Vinci’s waist. The right one gently touched her face. She turned her sparkling eyes towards him. The Labyrinth and The Sons of Mithras faded away from the maestro’s mind.   
\- You didn’t answer! How are you feeling as a married man? - Her face was too close to his. One raindrop was dancing on her cheek…  
He kissed her as if there was no more time ... no more kisses to have …  
Her lips were so juicy, so tender and then it was the taste of blood …   
***  
The rumor of Da Vinci’s fever found Riario unprepared. It meant the failure of the Crusade but actually was the Crusade what mattered? After their adventure in the New World the count appreciated the artist’s ability to survive in ventures. However, after he saved him from his own demons, Girolamo began to admire him as a person.   
During his journey to Florence he thought about the nature of their relationship – enemies, acquaintances, workmates, friends ... The furious face of Pope Sixtus crossed his mind a couple of times:  
\- Figure it out! Go in that Florence and understand what happened to your Da Vinci! – In his bathrobe His Holiness looked like an angered satyr.   
***  
\- Count Riario - Vanessa’s cold tone “welcomed” him.  
\- I came to   
\- To understand what happened to Senor Da Vinci – she rapidly finished his thousand- times repeated sentence. – I can assure you that he under the cares of the best doctors of Italy.   
\- But they haven’t diagnosed him.   
The New Mother of Florence grimaced. Rumors had the ability to spread faster than bees brought pollen from flower to flower.   
\- Senora, Leonardo Da Vinci called out your name. – her servant- girl Maria informed.  
Vanessa hurried up towards Leo’s bedroom. Riario went after her and she didn’t stop him. Probably if he saw Leo’s condition, he would have left for Rome until tonight.   
***  
When Leonardo opened his eyes, the view was beyond his most sinister nightmares. The square in front of Duomo was covered with a carpet of corpses. The drizzle was no more playful. It had become the tears of nature for Florence. The gibbet where cardinal Orsini and Francesco Pazzi were hanged was still there – decorated with new dead bodies. Nico and Zo. Death had scared their faces. Their clothes were soaked with blood. They obviously fought until the Ottoman soldiers put the rope on their necks. Da Vinci slightly shivered. It was because of him – his designs brought Florence and his friends to death. Hundreds of mutilated bodies. Rivers of blood. There was no one to mourn for them … no one to cry … The silence was sobbing. It wasn’t the expected loud cry. The silence was sobbing soundlessly as that mother in Otranto. Otranto. Now historians would compare it with a prelude to Florence.   
\- Leo … Leo – a hoarse voice whispered.   
Leonardo looked around.   
\- Here, on the ground   
Only now did he notice Vanessa. The blondie, lying in the mud, reminded him of a charming broken doll.  
\- Why is your world full only of shadows and pain? - she had asked him something like that when she was poisoned in the monastery. Then her question was due to delirium. Now it was an accusation.   
\- No … I didn’t … - Leo had no idea how to continue. He pressed pressure on her chest trying to stop the bleeding …  
\- She died immediately. – Vanessa announced after she exhaled.  
\- Who?  
\- Your Lucrezia – speaking caused her pain – She shouted only once … She screamed your name. You didn’t come - the pain made her stop again - The Turk stabbed her once, twice, three times … until his sword was fully covered with blood…  
\- Vanessa … Vanessa – he moved his hands from the dead body. He felt the same taste of blood in his mouth. Was it of blood? Horror, Panic, Guilt …  
The storm had begun long time ago but he didn’t notice it. Where was it freezing outside or in his soul? The severe wind rang the Duomo’s bells. A moment ago they cheered him for his wedding. Their ringing brought the word “Murderer!” closer to him. Whose voice was that – His mother’s, his father’s, Zo’s, Nico’s, Vanessa’s or Lucrezia’s.   
A mixture of them – a symbol of the desperation.


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was a widely open door to the Hell. Its enormous dense mass was continually torn by thunders – laughter coming from Devil’s savage orgy in Pandemonium. Raindrops had merged into vertical rivers that intimidated to turn Florence into a bog. Leonardo was still sitting on the ground holding the dead Vanessa’s head in his lap. In Death she wasn’t beautiful. Her face was too pale, too small, too horrified. Her mouth was open as if she was about to say something but Life, disgusted, had hurried to leave the bleeding body. The sticky mixture of blood and mud had covered her blond hair and made it resemble a besom.   
The severe wind was hitting Leo’s back. Rain had soaked in his clothes. However, he was numb, steering at Vanessa with blank eyes. He had just closed hers. What an irony - poetry was also a lie. The Death wasn’t charming or mystic. The Death was brutal, cruel. It had turned a flourishing city into a massacre field. The strong wind was mocking at both corpses on the gallows. They were swinging like pendulums. Nico’s eyes were widely open, glassy, terrified. The grimace on Zo’s grey face could have been compared with the most sinister mask from the Venetian Carnival.   
\- It’s just a nightmare, isn’t it? – the maestro yelled at the coming dark-clothed figure of Al-Rahim. – If I open my eyes, I will be back in reality.   
\- There is no reality, Leonardo. People have just forgotten how to travel through the River of Time.   
There was a hint of irritation in the Turk’s voice. He reminded of a teacher who had explained the same thing to a dim student thousands of times.   
\- You are trying to break me down  
\- You are broken down   
The ugly truth was loudly applauded by the storm. Al Rahim waved a hand theatrically. The movement of his rough fingers was the last thing Leonardo saw before he was absorbed by the River of Time. 

Xxx  
The boy looked curiously around. It was his first day in Florence. Actually it was the first time he had entered in an artistic studio. The maestro Verrocchio himself hadn’t arrived yet but his students, all of them elder by Leonardo, had begun working at the crack of the dawn.   
The twenty-year- old Da Vinci crossed the doorstep of his own workshop for the first time.   
Vanessa was dancing with the breeze.   
Lucrezia’s hot body was under his own. The phoenixes on her breasts were sparkling …  
The shot killed his mother.  
The Ottoman soldier cut his father’s head.  
His feverish body was tossing in the bed.  
A little girl was running towards him “Dad, dad …” An innocent laughter.  
The gravestone with elegantly engraved golden letters: Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci 15.04.1452 – the second date was illegible.   
Which of these was real?  
Xxx   
When Leo opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of his studio. What expected him there?   
The studio was the same as he left it – scattered sketches, an inkpot on the floor, unmade bed… Then he noticed her – a hardly outlined silhouette near his working table.   
\- You came, Leo. You came! – a tired weary voice   
Lucrezia turned towards him. Light of a single candle she held lightened her face. Leo shivered.   
The stripe of parched blood was wriggling around her neck like a perfect ruby snake-necklace. There were a couple of scratches on her cheek. Her dashing plait now came across as a destroyed by a storm bird nest.   
\- It didn’t hurt after the first time. – she moved the candle downwards. The huge wound on her chest was followed by others on her stomach and groins…  
\- First, it was the crusaders or what was left from their army. Dozens of mad men, smashed, clothed in rags, with many injures. Ordinary women, nuns, countesses and even the Mother of Florence herself bandaged wounds, relaxed agonizing soldiers, prepared them for their last journey. Then it was the Turks – Lucrezia paused as if the memory of the fall of Florence was too painful to be described. – that destroyed the city walls in less than a day. All women and kids hid in the cathedral. We heard the death screams of the fathers, brothers, sons, husbands … Honestly, … I didn’t believe in Hell until then. The hell fire reached the Earth - the fire of tanks… They prayed … all the women prayed to God for a miracle... I the atheist … the whore… the betrayer also prayed to God for a miracle – a miracle called Leonardo Da Vinci...   
Lucrezia came closer. Her words were a whisper. The storm outside had stopped in order to leave room for the storm in Leo’s soul.   
\- I didn’t want …  
\- You were too busy to come, to save us – Lucrezia cut him off – too busy searching for that Book of Leaves – a hint of disgust in her voice – they pulled us out of the cathedral … a horde of brutish animals … they raped girls in front of the eyes of their siblings … they killed babies before tearing their mothers’ skirts… Your Nico tried to save Vanessa… they hanged him together with Zoroaster Did you see them?   
Leonardo was speechless. Through Lucrezia’s words horror had become a hundred- headed monster he could not defeat.   
\- One grabbed me, he slavered my face while his hands tore my dress. I screamed… - an excruciating pause – your name … I hoped you would come with one of your bizarre machines and save me … How naïve I was- a hint of anger in her words - the Turk stabbed me once, my fingers reddened of my own blood … he stabbed me again... I was dying, Leo – tears were rolling on her cheeks – still firmly believing that you would come.  
Lucrezia’s tale was a torture, a slap in the face.   
\- I have never wanted this to happen!  
\- It happened.   
Da Vinci was the only one losing his temper right now.   
\- In Otranto you told Lorenzo you were incapable of loving. You have no idea how damn right you were. You betrayed your friends, your city, me … You didn’t pull through from the nine circles of your own Hell…  
The ghost was standing in front of him. She blew the candle. The last hissing flame drew a message: the nine circles of your own Hell in the pitch-dark room.  
Xxx   
Leonardo opened his eyes.


End file.
